


After The Fact

by TourmalineQueen



Series: Rozenn the Breton [19]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Crack, Dragon Soul Effects, F/M, Galmar and Ulfric's Epic Bromance, Humour, Sex Boasting, f/m - Freeform, friendship fic, not!porn, sex injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 03:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: Written for the Skyrim KinkmemeF!DB/Any - Clawing during sexLet's see that dragon soul come out in the DB when shes engaging in a tumble. Claws down the back, arms, scratching, a bit of biting, etc.Bonus if she doesn't trim her nails for this reason.Human races mostly preferred (although an Argonian or Khajiit would really fit too)Thanks anons!





	After The Fact

Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak growled. Galmar Stone-Fist, his Housecarl and chief of his army's Generals was late for the war council. This had been happening more and more often since he had begun sleeping with the Dragonborn.

Ulfric shook his head and sighed irritably. It wasn't that he minded Galmar having someone - even someone who could have benefitted Ulfric more - but the man had never before been known to be tardy, and now it seemed, every other morning council session was delayed.

The door to the Great Hall swung open, and Ulfric strode forward to have a word in Galmar's ear about his timekeeping. When he set eyes upon his Housecarl, however, Ulfric stopped short. The other man was limping, dried blood soaking through his clothing (no armour in sight, Ulfric noted absently) and there were deep scratches scoring Galmar's bare arms, and disappearing under the the sleeves of his shirt.

"Galmar! Were you attacked?" Ulfric all but shouted.

Galmar met Ulfric's gaze and mumbled an apology. Ulfric waved a hand, dismissing it.

"You're injured, man! There's no need to apologise now that I see you in this state. I will call one of the Shield-Maidens for you," Ulfric decided, guiding Galmar into the council chamber with a hand cautiously resting on the other's neck.

"Don't bother. Rozenn gave me a salve to use. If we might have some privacy I can put it on, and we can talk," Galmar replied, eyeing Jorlief and Yrsarald as he spoke. The two took the hint and shut the door after themselves as they went to the Great Hall.

"Galmar?" Ulfric asked dubiously.

"You can slather on a bit of salve, can't you? It's not healing magic if it's a salve - just berries and herbs and whatnot," Galmar asked.

Ulfric gave a fleeting half-smile, grateful that Galmar respected his lingering fear of the Restoration school of magic enough to say as much. He nodded.

"Good," Galmar grunted. He shrugged easily enough out of his jerkin but struggled to tug his shirt over his head.

Ulfric stepped behind him, gently pulling the cloth away from Galmar's skin, tugging slightly in the places where scabs had tried to form around the material. Galmar flinched occasionally, but made no sound. Ulfric apologised briefly once the shirt was off, then swore viciously when he saw the extent of the wounds covering Galmar's back and arms.

"I said much the same things receiving them," Galmar commented dryly. "The salve is not about to apply itself."

"There are few men in this world who could say they can give a Jarl orders," Ulfric said lightly, as he dipped his fingers into the jar of salve and sniffed the stuff. Juniper was the strongest scent in it, but Ulfric suspected there was also blisterwort and maybe some honeycomb in it. He rubbed it onto Galmar's shoulder.

"Too few," Galmar replied, shoulder shifting under Ulfric's ministrations.  
"How did this happen? Were you attacked by a cave bear?" Ulfric asked.

"No."

"Trolls?"

"No."

"Was it a pack of wolves? These scratches seem too even to be wolf-claws, though," Ulfric mused as he spread the salve across Galmar's back and arms.

"Not - ah, that stings, Ulfric! - not a wolf or pack of them," Galmar replied, glowering over his shoulder at his Jarl.

"A dragon, perhaps?"

Galmar chuckled. "You could say that. A very small dragon."

"Odd. There have been no reports of juvenile dragons attacking our settlements, or were you out in the wild?" Ulfric asked.

"You take these things far too seriously, Ulfric," Galmar commented, seemingly apropos of nothing.

"A very small dragon... All over your back... Galmar, are these sex wounds?" Ulfric asked flatly.

Galmar laughed aloud at that. "Took you long enough, my Jarl. I cannot return to the healers with wounds like these again - they'll start thinking I'm some manner of deviant. And it would not be appropriate to boast about my sex injuries to a healer."

"You say appropriate, but I somehow doubt it means what you think it does, Housecarl," Ulfric commented wryly, stepping back and watching the scratches on Galmar's back and arms fade and disappear after the treatment.

"I never would have thought you to be the jealous type, Ulfric," Galmar said in a teasing voice. "After all these years of sharing women I finally have one that doesn't want to get to you through my bed. Surely a man's entitled to boast a little?"

"A very little," Ulfric replied dryly. "Is this why you've been so late recently?"

"It is. Sorry," Galmar replied, smiling unrepentantly. "She really is a dragon in bed, my little Breton."

"Enjoy it while it lasts, my friend. Now, shall we begin planning our next offensive against the Empire?"

"By all means. Yrsarald! Jorlief! Stop listening at the door and get in here!" Galmar bellowed.

Ulfric smiled, a rare, full smile at the sight of Yrsarald and Jorlief handing each other purses of coin as they entered the council chamber.


End file.
